The Decoration Revelation
by Bella Duveen79
Summary: Ever since their Valentine's kiss, Sheldon had been wondering why Amy wouldn't kiss him back. Could sharing stories of her father bring them close enough for her to do so?


**The Decoration Revelation**

"I'll have to leave our Paintball championship up to you tomorrow, Leonard," Sheldon announced breezily, as if it didn't really matter, although he felt considerable disruption and confusion inside. "I have to help Amy move a few things."

"What things?" Leonard asked, confused himself. Sheldon had spent the past week going on about various strategies to kick Barry Kripke's butt at Paintball on Saturday, and now he was going to help someone instead?

"She's having new carpet put down, so needs to move things round in her apartment," Sheldon explained, logging on to World of Warcraft. Leonard was still surprised, and expected him to say this was something contractually obligated in that weird agreement they had, but he didn't. His mind went back a few years to when he'd helped Penny get some heavy item of furniture up the stairs in the then vain hope that would make her notice him. Sheldon had been predictably scornful of his efforts at the time, making it clear that they would not cause Penny to fall gratefully into Leonard's bed.

"Well, she did eventually!" he thought triumphantly, and wondered if this sudden enthusiasm of Sheldon's had similar motives?

After an hour of World of Warcraft, Sheldon gave up. The confusion was still there, swimming around inside him. First of all, this would be a severe disruption to his routine. They always played Paintball on Saturdays. To not play felt – wrong. Then there was the other confusion that was purely concerned with Amy. It had been nearly two months since he had kissed her on their train trip, and so much had happened since then. The experience had been one of the most amazing of his life, and that had scared him, so much so that he'd attempted to break up with her, thinking that would solve the problem of what to do next. It didn't, and he was eternally grateful they hadn't. Then they'd spent hours sitting on the floor of a store together (in spite of the dirt and who knew what else they were sitting in) and he'd kissed her again. That had been a much more intimate kiss, alone with Amy after dark. He knew exactly what that meant and where it could lead, and what it was making him want. And only last week, she'd put him to bed almost naked when he was drunk, and he had the distinct impression he'd tried for at least another kiss then. That was before he even touched on his career crisis – why was it all happening at once?

He could understand her leaving him that night, even though he hadn't wanted her to, but couldn't understand why, when he was perfectly sober, she wouldn't kiss him back. Was he doing it wrong? His research seemed to indicate he was doing it right, so what was going on? She'd asked him plenty of times for a kiss (and more) for a long time now, and it seemed beyond comprehension that she should have changed her mind.

"Maybe you could try doing something nice for her?" Penny had suggested a couple of days ago, when, having exhausted all other options, Sheldon had eventually asked her what could be going on.

"I do nice things for her all the time!" he'd replied indignantly. "I let her drive me to work twice a week, I brought her lunch the other day…I kissed her…"

"I know sweetie, and that's great!" Penny honestly didn't believe she'd see the day, but thought she knew what the problem was. "Is there anything else she would like though, like maybe ask about her day and actually listen for once?"

"What if it's not very interesting?"

"Even then!" Penny said sharply. "Seriously, if you want her to kiss you back, you need to show some interest in that girl's life!"

That seemed rather unfair criticism to Sheldon. He was extremely interested in Amy's life, and could quote everything she'd ever told him, but accepted that maybe he could help her a bit more, which was why he was giving up an important Paintball tournament – after all, ladies shouldn't be moving heavy items on their own…what would his Cotillion instructor say?

That night, Amy woke suddenly. She was crying, and still shaken by the memories stirred up by her subconscious. Memories of loss, and a deep hurt that she still carried inside, came into focus, and she remembered...

Glendale, April 1987

"…and then they called me 'Four Eyes Fowler'…" the little girl sobbed, clinging to her father tightly.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry," Staff Sergeant Fowler, USAF, replied, cradling his five year old daughter and resolving to speak to someone at school as soon as possible. "I'll sort this out. They won't do it again."

Gradually, Amy's tears subsided. Her father had a way of making her better, and she leaned more comfortably into his shoulder. She only wished he didn't have to work away so much. They'd left the bases they'd lived on since she was a baby to return home to family in LA, so she and her mother wouldn't be on their own so much, but she still missed him when he wasn't there.

Amy took a couple of shaky breaths, and then broke into a watery smile. "Hey Daddy, I made up this new game – you wanna play?"

"OK, what is it?"

"It's called 'Pretend', and you have to say how things would be different if other stuff was different."

"Like what?"

"Well…"she thought for a moment, "…like if dinosaurs didn't die out, would people still be here? Or would it be something else, like the world run by birds!"

John Fowler smiled at his little girl. She thought a lot, wanted to know everything, and he was very proud of her. She was bright too, and loved nature programmes on TV – that and fairy tales featuring old fashioned princesses, knights and castles. She'd looked so sweet at Halloween in her fairy princess costume, complete with plastic tiara. Somehow he always seemed to be the one to take her Trick or Treating – it wasn't really her mother's thing. She'd chosen Amy's first name, for Amy Johnson, the aviation pioneer, but he'd chosen her second. As a 'Charlie's Angels' fan, Farrah seemed just right for his own.

Sitting on the couch now, sipping some tea, Amy felt a little better, but couldn't stop remembering just yet, and thought back again…

Glendale, June 1990

As luck would have it, John was on leave when they were invited in to school to see eight year old Amy presented with first prize from the Science Fair that year, and he was so pleased to see her get the recognition she deserved. Her project had been based on experiments done during a school field trip to the beach a couple of months ago, and he'd returned to repeat those experiments with her after some kids threw her work into the sea. They'd spoken to her teachers, but he wasn't convinced the problem was solved. It was becoming clear to everyone that Amy wasn't just bright – she was very bright, and kids don't like that. Especially not some of the girls, who strangely she still seemed to want to be friends with – he couldn't think why.

Her mother was pleased too, but she wasn't so impressed with her daughter's scientific curiosity, although she had found both an ant farm and decomposing squirrel in a Tupperware container in Amy's room.

"I just wanted to see what would happen to it," Amy had tried to explain when her mother made her throw the squirrel out. "Decomposition is really interesting!" He smiled as he thought back to a piece she'd written for homework a while back, detailing what she'd like to do when she grew up:

"One day, I would like to work with animals, maybe in a zoo. My favourite animals are monkeys, but I like all primates, and koala bears too. In school, I like Science, Reading and Music."

As he watched her up on stage though, John was somewhat worried for both her and his wife. The situation in the Middle East was getting tense, and he would be going back to base soon for pre deployment training. All the signs were that he'd be going away again, quite soon.

She finished her tea, and settled back into bed, calm now, even smiling as she thought of seeing Sheldon later and gradually fell asleep.

Saturday came, and Amy found herself on the edge of her couch, glancing over at the door in excitement waiting for her boyfriend's ritualistic knocking. It was so sweet that he was coming to help her! She smoothed down one of her new, slightly fitted, more delicate cardigans over her skirt and smiled as she thought of him the previous week, curled up in bed and nearly naked. It was unfortunate that he'd also been steaming drunk at the time…or was it? In that state, she hadn't had to consider staying – he wasn't in his right mind and nothing more was happening, even though he seemed to want it to. Being in a similar situation with Sheldon sober was both everything she'd ever dreamed of and what she was increasingly concerned about. It was easy to be bold about something that wasn't going to happen any time soon, but over the past two months, things had changed so much, and she wasn't sure how to proceed. Amy loved Sheldon kissing her, and couldn't stop thinking of the kisses she waited so long for, but they scared her too. All of sudden, things were getting very real very fast, and she was starting to question her ability to make good on what she'd so brazenly promised. Maybe what she was really scared of was asking Sheldon if he was truly interested in her, in Amy Farrah Fowler, and if she had it in her to show him…Such worries were put aside however, as she leapt up to answer his triple knock.

"Good morning Amy!" Sheldon said as he stepped through the door, a sweet smile suddenly lighting his features. He hadn't seen that cardigan before, and having long since memorised her wardrobe, knew it to be new and suspected it to be her way of dressing up for him. He hoped she never felt she had to change dramatically in the style of those hideous reality makeover shows that Raj and Penny watched – she was pretty anyway. And those pencil skirts were doing far too good a job invading his dreams as it was…_Focus Cooper_!

"Hello Sheldon!" Amy replied, a similar smile on her face. "I'm sorry to keep you from Paintball – I know it was a big game for you today."

"Yes, it was, but I've left several strategies for Leonard and awarded him a temporary promotion. If we lose I'll know he disregarded them, but he was the best choice I had," Sheldon replied in resignation, setting his bag down on the table.

Amy nodded. "Yes, somehow I don't see Rajesh as being a steely eyed Paintball commander and Howard is, well, Howard."

"Yes – I had no choice." For all that Sheldon had grown closer to Howard recently, that was no reason to hand over command in his absence – after all, this was a man who'd done unspeakable things with Leslie Winkle of all people in one of those huts. Not that he'd been thinking of being in a similar situation with Amy recently. Not at all.

"Very true," Amy agreed, and went to make them some tea. For a moment, Sheldon just stood there, watching the way she moved and the curves of her body beneath her skirt. He'd been thinking about them more and more lately, ever since that kiss on the train.

"I thought we might need some," she continued, bringing the mugs over. "There's quite a lot to move out of my room."

"What's wrong with your carpet?" Sheldon asked, trying to ignore the fact that he was going to see her room for the first time.

"It has sun damage near the window, so the building manager arranged a replacement," she replied, also ignoring the fact, only betrayed by a slight blush that could be blamed on the tea.

Sheldon shook his head slowly and looked at her. "Amy, you grew up here! Proper window blinds are essential!"

"Maybe we could go get some? Next week sometime?"

"That sounds sensible," Sheldon agreed, hoping it sounded like he didn't care either way, while simultaneously overjoyed at the idea of an extra date with his girl.

His first thought when Amy showed him into her room was how similar it was to his own – neat and orderly, with a perfectly made bed and polished surfaces. It still smelled of polish actually, which he liked, with a hint of the fresh, citrus perfume she wore – so much nicer than the cloying floral concoctions favoured by Penny and Bernadette. It only took a touch of that perfume to send his heart racing these days, especially in combination with her dandruff shampoo, and being at her bedside only intensified the sensation. Sheldon mentally shook himself, and asked if she had a tape measure.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied, having spent the past couple of moments sneaking little glances at him. "What do you need it for?"

"We need to measure this window for blinds," he said, trying to be all business. As she handed one over, Amy watched as he bent and stretched his tall frame to measure her window, and note the specifications in his phone, and felt her own heart race. Was he going to kiss her today too? Maybe in this very room? She flushed as she thought of how many times she'd imagined that.

"There," Sheldon said as he finished. "Wouldn't get very far without proper calculations, would we?"

Amy smiled. "So, you gonna help me move this stuff?"

There was quite a lot to move, and they had to start by emptying chests of drawers. As she packed up her clothes in a suitcase, Amy could feel Sheldon's eyes on her the whole time, but she never caught him looking. She gently folded some of her more frilly items, and couldn't help the feeling she could be playing with fire as he watched her covertly, apparently engrossed in stacking books neatly in a box.

Such items were indeed a revelation to Sheldon – so that's what the girls had got her buying. He had the feeling Kohlinar wouldn't work tonight, having caught a glimpse of something lacy with leopard print spots. How had she managed to do this to him without even really trying? All he knew was that getting up right now wasn't an option, as a certain – tightness – was hard to hide. He was somewhat relieved therefore, when Amy announced that she would get them another drink, and left for the kitchen. As she was waiting for the kettle to boil, Sheldon, looking round for something – anything – to take his mind off lace and leopard print, noticed a little box in the corner of the bookcase. He picked it up, and was surprised at how heavy it was. It wasn't locked, and in the spirit of organising its contents correctly, Sheldon opened it.

Inside was a set of dog tags and campaign medals, awarded to…Staff Sergeant Fowler? Was that her father? He looked more closely. There were medals from Vietnam, Panama, Saudi Arabia, Iraq…none after Iraq. Sheldon was still lost in thought when she came back.

"Sheldon, I got your tea…" Amy began, and then noticed what he was looking at, and sank down beside him. "Oh…those are my father's…"

"I never knew," he managed, looking at her strangely. "Your father was a hero."

"I know." It was a whisper.

"Why didn't you say?"

Amy sighed. She felt dangerously close to tears. "I don't know. I was nine years old when he died. He was killed, in Iraq. If I didn't talk about it, it didn't seem so real."

Holding her gaze, a rare look of compassion showed in Sheldon's eyes.

"I know. When I lost my Pop-Pop, I didn't say anything for weeks. I wanted Santa to bring him back for Christmas – I didn't understand."

"He got you into Science, right?" Sheldon nodded. "My father did too."

"I wish you'd told me," he replied, and slowly reached over to take her hand. Such gestures were rare, but he couldn't imagine not holding her at that moment.

"I know. I didn't want to think of it. Sometimes I can't help it though – it comes out in my dreams."

Sheldon looked down at her small hand clutched in his, and saw the beautiful eyes he loved so much shining with unshed tears. Holding her hand wasn't enough, and he pulled her into a hug. She sank into him more deeply, buried her face in his shirt, and cried. Sheldon usually hated crying women – he had no idea how to deal with such emotion in himself, let alone anyone else, but Amy was, in so many ways, exceptional. If she needed to cry, he'd stay with her, as long as she needed. He could even feel the sting of tears himself, as her feelings of loss triggered his own, not just for his grandfather, but his own father too. They hadn't got on well, most of the time, hadn't understood one another, but that didn't mean he didn't think of him.

"Amy?" he asked gently, as she quietened slightly in his arms. "You know when I was talking to Mr Rostenkowski?"

"Yeah." She smiled through her tears. "I won't be forgetting that day!"

"You never even asked me to say I was sorry!" Sheldon replied, smiling back.

"No…" she admitted, somewhat embarrassed now. "So when you were talking..?"

"We talked about how my father loved Football, and how he tried to get me interested…I never was, but it got me thinking of this one time…" He took a sip of his tea, and looked back at her.

"When I was ten, my mother went to get him out the bar one night. I'd just won a State science competition for High School kids, and when she got there, he was…bragging…about me."

"Really?" Amy hadn't heard much more about George Cooper, to be honest, than she'd shared with him about John Fowler, but knew he had a problem with alcohol, and probably women too.

"Yeah…he was proud of me." It was hard to admit. "I kinda forget the good stuff about him – just remember the fights we saw – because I didn't miss that."

"My father saw me win a competition too. He went back to do the experiments with me after Kelly Ann Burnett and Donna Miller stole my notes. Not long after, he had to go, and didn't come back."

Sheldon held her close again. It was so strange, how she made him able to do this.

"I bet he was proud of you. He would be now."

"I think yours would be too," Amy murmured, with a smile.

Sheldon looked at her, and said the first thing he felt brave enough to express. "You know, green eyes are most probably a mutation of some kind. I believe it's the rarest eye colour in humans."

"Quite possible." Amy didn't mind the turn of phrase. It was a technical term.

"If it is," Sheldon continued, "I think it's one of the most fortunate."

"And why is that?" Her tone was shy still, but had a sultry edge to it that made the skin on the back of his neck burn.

"Because they're beautiful." He'd always thought it, but never admitted it, and pulled her close again.

Amy felt her breath coming faster. He was close now, so close, too close. It was as exciting and amazing as ever, but somehow different too. For a moment, she couldn't think what it was, and then she knew. She didn't have to worry. Sharing their stories on the bedroom floor together was a new experience for them both, and one that told her what Sheldon hadn't said and found it hard to show – he loved her. She looked at him straight in the eyes – a dangerous move on her part, because once he caught her eye it was very hard for her to do anything but fall, deeper and deeper, and let him know just what he did to her.

Sheldon couldn't resist her any longer, and gently captured her lips in a kiss, fully expecting it to be sweet but brief, given how she'd seemed almost scared before. He wasn't expecting Amy to push herself into him, arms wrapped around him tight, enveloping him in the most intense kiss they'd ever had. All her hopes and fears were suddenly concentrated in that kiss, and he was hit by the tidal wave of every feeling of love and lust for him that she'd ever had.

It seemed a while before they broke apart, breathing hard and shallow, looking hot and flushed.

"That was…amazing…" Sheldon said, almost in a whisper.

"I know." Amy really couldn't say much else.

"Were you quoting Han Solo?" At least part of his brain was functioning.

"No, but it's true."

They stayed together on the floor for a while longer, not needing to speak, until Amy reluctantly remembered to check the time on her phone, and reminded Sheldon that the carpet fitter was due at 12. They really had quite a lot left to move, and kissing wouldn't get things done…

As the carpet fitter arrived, Sheldon received a text from Leonard, and was pleased to see they'd won the Paintball tournament. He went to tell Amy, and saw her preparing his favourite spaghetti for lunch. An amazing kiss, beating Barry Kripke, and now spaghetti and hot dogs – the day couldn't be better…not yet, anyway. They weren't there yet, but they would be, and for the first time, both of them knew it.


End file.
